


The Voices

by Jesi_Ki_Kage



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Costia POV, F/F, One Shot, POV Second Person, Slow Burn, Soulmates, for now, will eventually continue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 05:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17380616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesi_Ki_Kage/pseuds/Jesi_Ki_Kage
Summary: You’ve heard their thoughts for as long as you can remember.You’re five when trying to talk back to them first gets you in trouble, gets you noticed.You still try every now and then. Every year the voices get louder and come less as the occasional whisper and more as a steady stream. By the time you’re eight you’ve figured out there are two of them, but you hold that knowledge close to you. It’s your own little secret, your own little treasure.You never tell the wise woman, but you think she knows as she teaches you to read the big dusty tomes you’ve been caring for for years.





	The Voices

**Author's Note:**

> Right. So this is sort of a spin off to That Voice You’ve Always Heard. Although this one will have a sequel. Eventually. When I figure out just how much of canon got thrown out the window and what is replacing it. The idea for the Triumvirate comes from These Emotions so if you want more of that go read my other fic.
> 
> Grounder language is in italics.  
> [thoughts sent over the soulbond]

You’ve heard their thoughts for as long as you can remember.

You’re five when trying to talk back to them first gets you in trouble, gets you noticed.

Everyone has a soulmate - that’s what the adults call the voice in your head that only you can hear. You’ve found if you help the old wise woman out with her herbs and her books and her mixing she will tell you stories while you work. 

Stories of brave warriors crossing unknown lands to find their soulmate. Stories of soulmates growing up together and leading their village together as equals even though they take some else to be bonded to. Stories of strong, wise leaders who never found their soulmate but were successful anyways.

But most of all, she tells you stories of the Triumvirate. The Founding Three.

Every time you hear it, no matter how many times you’ve heard it before, the story brings you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

But learning that story comes after you begin spending time in the wise woman’s hut.

After you tried talking to your voices when you were five, sitting on the pier and lonely after swim lessons. After one of the other kids heard you trying to talk to your soulmate and pushed you in the water. After they made fun of you for talking to the voices in your head when everyone knew you couldn’t actually talk back to your soulmate through your thoughts.

After you nearly drowned and stopped trying to make friends with the other kids.

You stop trying to talk to the voices after that too.

Mostly.

You still try every now and then. Every year the voices get louder and come less as the occasional whisper and more as a steady stream. By the time you’re eight you’ve figured out there are two of them, but you hold that knowledge close to you. It’s your own little secret, your own little treasure.

You never tell the wise woman, but you think she knows as she teaches you to read the big dusty tomes you’ve been caring for for years.

* * *

You’re ten when you learn the truth of things. At least to an extent.

You’re ten when you find out why your parents were always so distant with you, always upset when you drew attention to yourself. Why they were always afraid to be close to you but could never bear to let you go too far from them.

You had older siblings.

Twins.

Luna and Liam.

You’re ten when you’re escorted by one of the village gona to the mainland with the quest of reaching Polis to tell the natblida siblings you’ve never met of your parents passing.

You’re ten when a lone Trigedakru gona saves you from being killed on the road after your escort left you to continue on your own.

You’re ten when you make your first friend and for once don’t wonder why your voices are different from everyone else’s.

* * *

You’d known one of your soulmates was a natblida for a while.

Just as you’d known one of them lived in space, strange as that may seem.

The only reason you could even understand half of what that one says is because all of the wise woman’s books are written in gonasleng, so you had to learn the language even though you weren’t training to be a gona.

You’ve always been able to understand the natblida one, even though Trigedasleng is different than Floudonsleng. While the languages may very slightly, the two clans have always been allies. Besides, all natblida have to learn gonasleng on top of learning all the clans’ native languages. This means there were plenty of times where all three of you were thinking in gonasleng.

Still, knowing one of your soulmates was a natblida didn’t mean you knew who they were.

You’re allowed to share a room with Onya until someone from your clan could be found to escort you back. Onya reported to her superior as soon as you were settled in the room, Heda needing to know the outcome of the fight Onya had survived.

It's as you follow Onya towards the training rings that you learn she is being granted the opportunity to train a natblida as her sekon. It is a reward you’re told, for surviving the battle that claimed her fos. At the time you’d felt a thrill. Your thoughts on if you’d meet your natblida soulmate.

You’d forgotten you were there to meet your siblings until you reached the beaten ground marked with rings for sparring.

Seeing the near twenty children sparring all across the grounds sent a chill through you. 

Some were older than you by several years, some were barely able to hold their training weapons they were so small. Never before were you so thankful to have knowledge of the natblida in your head then you did then. To know that no one competed in the conclave unless they were over fourteen.

The fight in one of the middle rings drew your gaze.

Two girls were fighting. Both had brown hair and visible muscles under the sweat and dirt. A boy with similar features sat just outside the ring panting, most likely having lost the fight before. The boy and one of the girls had darker skin than the other, but still lighter than your own. Your eyes tracked the fight but kept glancing to the boy.

He was the spitting image of your father.

When the fight ended the boy cheered and congratulated the winner, confirming what you’d already guessed. One of the girls - the taller - was your sister. The boy, your brother.

Both were fourteen and would participate in the next conclave as some of the oldest natblida.

Onya said something over your shoulder but you didn’t hear it.

All three natblida turned from the ring and approached, bowing respectfully once they were close enough. Onya placed her hands on your shoulders and pushed you towards the twins then turned to leave. The other girl bowed again in farwell, your eyes catching hers as you finally looked away from your siblings.

Your breath caught and you could see her eyes widen before she carefully schooled her expression and followed Onya.

If she was your natblida soulmate she was careful not to think as she left. It didn’t matter though. You had your siblings to finally meet.

Turning back towards them you found both watching you with careful expressions.

Visits from family weren’t forbidden per se, just extremely discouraged. Should the natblida child become Heda their family immediately became a target. Even before becoming Heda their family could be used in an attempt to cause a forfeit during the Conclave. So for you to be there meant something had happened. Something major.

When neither of them spoke for sometime you began to fidget.

For a moment you wished you could hear their thoughts, if only to know what they were thinking, why they weren’t speaking. Once they did speak though you were rather happy you couldn’t. For if they finished each other’s sentences often it might drive you insane.

“Sis-”

“-why are-”

“-you here?”

You glance around uncertain. You know your quest is futile, but still you do not wish to speak out in the open as you are.

Sensing this the two turn, holding out their hands to you as one, so that you would walk in the middle between them. Nothing else is spoken until they have lead you to an alcove a ways away from the training grounds, one a mix of plant life and stone much like the rest of the city.

“Nomon and nomtu are dead. The village is yours to lead should you wish it.”

They blink at you, before the girl - Luna - replies, voice and posture coming off uncaring.

“So? We cannot leave our duty as nablida, surely you know this.”

Your eyes memorize the worn spots on your shoes. You know this. Everyone in the village knows this. They still sent you.

“Sis,” Liam’s voice is softer than Luna’s, a gentle stream compared to her sharp sting, “Why would the village send you to tell us this. Why would you not be raised in their place?”   
  
You shake your head, fighting the tears that threaten to fall. You did not wish to speak of it. You did not wish to say it aloud. Thinking it was bad enough but to say it would make it real.

A tear falls.

_ [Hodnes laik kwelnes.] _

You flinch. The thought slamming into you at the same time as Liam’s hand touches your chin. He does not remove his hand, although you can tell when you meet his eyes that he is startled by your reaction. A glance shows nothing but seriousness in Luna’s eyes. Her disinterested attitude gone.

“I was not to survive the journey.”

Liam’s hand falls away. A sharp inhale has you flinching once more but neither move to touch you again. When finally you find the courage to look at them neither are looking at you. Instead they are staring at each other, expressions drawn, fists clenched.

You wonder for a moment if they are actually talking to each other. If they are communicating with their thoughts. You’ve heard stories of siblings being soulmates. Stories of siblings saving each other’s lives only due to knowledge granted by the thoughts of the other. Stories of siblings able to help their village in unique ways.

You return to your inspection of your shoes.

No one can talk to their soulmate through their thoughts.

This time the hand stops in your line of vision without touching you. You look up to see it was Luna who had approached you.

“Who is your fos?” You blink, wondering at the relevance of the question.

“The- the old wise woman. Why?”

Luna nods. Glances at Liam for confirmation of something then faces you again.

“So become so wise they would be fools to kill you.”

You blink. And blink again, mouth slightly agape as you process what you just heard. Slowly the corners of your cheeks turn up.

The rest of your time with them that day is short, but you continue to meet with them over the course of your time in Polis. When you aren’t learning about fighting and leading from your siblings you are searching out every tradesman who will answer your questions, every merchant who will humor your wonder, every wise one who will share their books.

You learn and learn and learn until one day you cannot put off returning to your village any longer.

A member of your clan was in Polis. Not just of your clan but of your village. As soon as they learned you were there, alive, they demanded you returned to the village at once. Returned to where you belonged.

When you said goodbye to your siblings that last day each of you knew it would likely be for the last time.

Another war was on the horizon.

And you knew from your natblida soulmate that the skirmishes had already started. 

You learned of the battles from her thoughts, just as you learned of the sciences from your other soulmate’s thoughts. You learn one more thing while you are in Polis. Just one, not related to any study that you pursued, but still you treasured it above all the other knowledge that you gained.

You knew who your first soulmate was: Onya’s sekon.

Leksa.

* * *

You’re twelve when you return to your village and the old wise woman. 

For all that nearly two full rotations have passed not much has changed. Your village is still one of the many that live by the waves, providing food and trade to the Rig hidden in the depths of the water. The other kids - now proud sekon themselves - still avoid you. Now though they avoid you for different reasons than before.

Now you have gone and done things that they only dream of.

They accept you, grudgingly. They have to. The respect is there, after all you are the wise woman’s sekon - have been for years - and your parents were the village leaders: your nomtu running the day to day while your nomon handled negotiations with the Rig and other villages.

Were.

The respect comes mostly from the adults who understand your loss, who acknowledge what you survived to get to and from Polis, and who would rather your knowledge remain in the village than out.

It is your peers who are different.

In the months following your return they alternate between studying you and ignoring you. Some strike up tentative truces. After all, as the wise woman’s sekon you will hold a lot of sway once you finish your training. As the others advance in their training they begin to learn why those things matter for their future.

You’ve know for years.

Having a natblida for a soulmate tends to expand your education immensely. That’s not even accounting for having a second soulmate to teach you things.

By the time you’re thirteen and hear the dockhand call two Trigedakru are being brought on board you think you’re ready. You feel ready. More grounded, with a better understanding of your place in the world.

You know that Leksa is ready too.

* * *

You’re in the back of the wise woman’s cabin helping her put away the fresh herbs when the call comes. You freeze, surprise shifting your expression as you gape up at the open window.

What?

Leksa had been suspiciously more controlled with her thoughts recently and while you had wondered, you hadn’t really given it any thought. Your other mate - who you’ve recently learned is called Klark - had certainly kept you distracted with rambles of all the medical tricks she was learning in her Ark.

Now you know why.

A hand on your arm startles you, bringing you back to where you are. Glancing over you see the wise woman watching you with thoughtful eyes. Quickly you school your expression into a small smile of excitement.

“Visitors!” you say, as if that is enough to explain your reaction.

If you’d still been eight it would have been.

Quickly you work to finish sorting and storing the herbs. The wise woman does as well, although her eyes never lose their thoughtful observation as you work. You hope Leksa is okay with a handful of people figuring out your bond. It is not something you think you can hide from the woman who practically raised you.

Leksa’s thoughts have made it clear that she worries for what will happen to you should your bond become public knowledge.

Your own thoughts have echoed her fear as you learned more about the history of the Triumvirate and what having such a bond means to each clan.

Some of it is good. Some of it is bad.

A knock on the door from the front room has your pulse spiking. 

“Just a minute!” you call as you rush to stuff the last few herbs in their jars. You make sure to steady yourself before sealing them knowing that if the seal isn’t strong the herbs could be ruined from the salt in the air.

At last you finish. Wiping sweating hands on your skirt you help the wise woman stand, her staff in the front room as there are plenty of supports between the two rooms even without your aid.

Despite your pounding adrenaline you allow her to go first as is proper when greeting guests.

You barely hear her opening greeting having heard it hundreds of times before. No, stepping through the doorway your entire being focuses on the two figures still developing their sealegs.

Onya stands two paces inside, nearly to the other wall in the cramped space of the cabin. As tall and imposing as you remember, seeing her still brings a spot of warmth and assurance even though you only spent a few months traveling with her.

It is the shorter figure next to Onya which holds your attention however, the mental [ _ Leksa _ ] escaping without any notice.

Leksa stands between Onya and the door. Her clothes a similar mix of cloth and leather as your own, her hair braided to your lose tie. She stands stiff and coiled. Your lips quirk up as another wave rocks the boat and she seems to shift with unease. It seems your natblida mate was not as stable at sea as on dry ground. Understandable seeing as she was of the trees.

Her eyes meet yours and your breath catches.

[ _ Kostia _ ]

A shiver runs down your spine before you can stop it. In an attempt to control your racing pulse you look away, towards your fos. The gleam in the wise woman’s eyes when she sees you look makes heat come to your cheeks. Then Onya’s voice reaches your ears and you blush harder.

“-see we decided to come here for Leksa’s Floukru training. This way I can check on my young friend while Leksa learns about your clan.”

There is no mention of your being soulmates, but you have little doubt that both fos know what you mean to each other without needing to say it. Risking a look back at Leksa you’re pleased to see the faintest of reddening on the tips of her ears.

You can already tell this is going to be an interesting few weeks with the two Trigedakru at your village.

* * *

You were right.

* * *

At nearly fourteen you gape at your mentor, your fos, your village wise woman as she shoos you out the door after your soulmate. Her words ring in your head for hours after.

“Go. You're only young once and there's nothing more I can teach you anyways.”

You beg to differ - about her not having anything else to teach you - but that doesn't stop your heart from skipping a beat upon seeing Leksa and Onya waiting for you at the boat that would take them to shore.

Take you to shore.

Clearly something of your thoughts had made it to Leksa that they were still there waiting. Something of a smile lights her face as you approach. Setting your bag next to theirs you turn to the deckhand and nod.

You’ve already said your goodbye.

You watch, as the boat pulls away from the floating village. It’s hodgepodge of wood paths connecting anchored boats may not have been the nicest place to live for you, but it was still your home. Watching as the village fades the closer you get to shore you can’t help but think of the last time you’d left. Of the differences.

Leksa’s presence at your side is a warmth you have yet to adjust to.

It’s the call of “land ho” that has you finally turning from the waves to face the trees. It was time for a new part of your journey. One with the Trikru, with your older soulmate. It was time to begin learning more of your legacy as the Triumvirate returned.

* * *

A year and a half. That is how long you are able to travel with Leksa and Onya across the lands and to neighboring clans. You see conflict and wonder. You learn about violence and healing. Each new clan you are able to visit brings dozens of questions over all the things you learn at Leksa’s side.

Early on you took to dressing as Trikru so that your presence with a nablida and their fos would stand out less. You know it makes Leksa nervous, the more other kru assume you are her soulmate simply due to your presence at her side.

Every new village and clan you visit rehashes the same argument.

She is natblida.

Being seen with her puts you at risk, paints a bigger and bigger target on your back.

You agree, but you refuse to back down.

If you are to be Haiteca one day you must know all there is to know about every clan, every trade, every people. You must know so that others may know. Leksa may not accept this, but that is the way of things. For every great leader has a great council to support them. And you are to be Leksa’s.

So while Leksa builds her connections with the various leaders as a natblida - as a future Heda and leader of Polis - you build your own network of connections. One made up of orphans and elders and merchants. The ones often overlooked by the warriors of every clan.

Only Leksa’s blackblood allows you passage into many of these places. Something that makes you shiver every time you see her slice a finger as proof.

One day, Leksa promises you, people of all kru will be able to travel freely between the lands without needing to prove their heritage at every gate.

You cling to that promise as she and Onya leave for Polis; Leksa making you swear to stay in TonDC with Onya’s fos Indra where your bond cannot be used against her.

You cling to that promise as she leaves for the Conclave.

You cling to that promise even as you know to achieve it she must become Heda.

She must kill your siblings.

* * *

You are a week shy of sixteen when Onya returns from Polis.

You know Leksa won. You know your sister lives just as you know what became of your brother, of the pain Leksa saw on your sisters face when he fell. You know just as Leksa knows that your siblings had been soulmates - platonic soulbonds common among twins.

Leksa’s thoughts have been different, changed, since she Ascended.

You beg Onya for any clue as to what has caused this change. Her answer chills you to your core. You only wish Klark was her to make sense of it with her science.

The Flame.

It is a literal thing Onya says, something that merged itself with Leksa upon her Ascension. Something placed by the Flamekeeper and that knowledge is all you need to begin to hate this mysterious man.

Leksa’s thoughts tell you it is he who she does not want you to meet.

For all that he raised Leksa, he made his stance very clear. Two of the three Heda before Leksa were weakened, overthrown, or killed in someway due to their soulmate being known to the people. Oh the soulmate of Heda is revered, respected among the people as Heda’s other half yes. But that respect does not make the threats any less real.

The Heda who just died did so before finding his soulmate.

It mattered not to the Fleimkepa. 

He took what he learned and made it a lesson he taught to all natblida. Love is weakness.

Leksa’s thoughts told you that he accosted Leksa immediately upon her return, demanding to know if the rumors of her finding her soulmate were true. She was not able to deny him that. But she swore that no contact would be made upon Ascending. And she did everything in her power to keep your name and identity secret.

Her thoughts tell you that she is terrified of being the Haiheda and failing in her duty to protect you.

Onya confirms all of this. As well as her orders to return you to your people in Floukru so that none may make the connection of the Trikru girl who traveled with Heda Leksa to the young Floukru wise woman.

As you travel you confer with Onya about your soulbond.

How your are able to hear more of Leksa’s thoughts than ever before. How they come in clearer, sharper. How there are times it seems as though Leksa is talking with another in her thoughts, but how you know that to be impossible.

You are careful never to mention Klark in your questioning.

Onya assures you with stories of the Flame, of how the Flame enables one to commune with every Heda to come before. You have heard the stories before, and they do nothing to assure you now - even if all evidence points to them being true.

You will never know until you are able to ask Leksa directly. Something it seems Leksa is determined to prevent occurring for a long time to come.

In many ways, it is as though you did loose Leksa in the conclave after all. For while her thoughts are now stronger and clearer than ever, she has never been further from you since the moment she stepped foot on your boat for the first time.

Staring at your village again now you cannot help but feel hollow at your return instead of joyous.

You are sixteen and have both found and lost your first soulmate.

* * *

You're eighteen when the impossible happens, when something you've been told all your life is a fact, a rule, just - stops applying to you.

You're eighteen when Klark is locked up and your bond changes once again.

You’d noticed everyday since Leksa became Heda that your bond is growing, strengthening. Some days it seemed as though the thoughts you were hearing were echos of responses. As though the first reaction to a thought would make it through the bond but no true communication would.

But this- there is no denying this.

[Breath] you tell her as you hear her thoughts spiral. The younger girl had just awoken to find herself in a cell after witnessing her father’s death. You hardly blame her for her panic, even if it does nothing to help her.

[Let it out. Process what you’re feeling but don’t dwell.] That’s Leksa thinking. But it’s thought in a way you can tell is deliberate. Intentional. And you heard it in a way you’ve never been able to hear either of their thoughts before - as though they were right in the room with you.

[Leksa?]

[Not now Kostia, focus on Klark.] 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see it. Instead you begin counting out breaths. A steady count in followed by a stead count out. As you do this you hear Leksa’s thought-voice soft in the background, encouraging Klark to breath with you, to match your counts.

After several minutes it words. You feel Klark has calmed even if no thought has come across the bond saying such. For several minutes there is pure silence in your head, in your thoughts. None of you think. Instead you just sit there breathing. Then-

[Thank you.]

It’s soft, tentative. It makes you smile.

[You’re welcome.]

Silence returns. A few moments later Leksa’s thoughts tell you she as been called back to the outside world. Opening your eyes from your near meditative state you realize you should probably return to your own duties as well.

Klark makes no further comment then, but you can feel her presence in the bond. It is much more focused, more attuned, as though her mind was hovering just outside your reach. A deliberate sense of watching, of being watched.

Of Klark focusing on simply being absorbed into your bond.

For the rest of the day while you work you consciously explain what you’re doing. Describing plants and herbs as you mix them, the process of sealing and storing, the reasoning behind your actions.

When you finish and join the rest of the village for dinner you find yourself almost wishing you could continue working for no other reason than to provide Klark something to listen to.

Then Leksa begins teaching a lesson to the natblida, projecting the lesson internally as well as to her pupils and you can’t help but smile.

You’re eighteen and sitting alone with your dinner, and yet you’ve never felt more connected to someone then right then.

That night you go to sleep smiling.

* * *

One year later you are just turned nineteen. You are nineteen and screaming in the middle of the night because your soulmate - your younger soulmate - has just been told she is being sent to Earth before being knocked unconscious.

Before your mind has broken free from the panic your body is moving. 

A bag is packed and ready to go by the time the deckhand on watch is knocking on your door asking if you are alright.

Of course you’re not alright.

But you can’t tell him this. No, you simply tell him that you are needed on land, that your soulmate needs you and he does not question. No one questions you beyond that. A boat is loaded and goodbyes are exchanged.

You do not say it and the wise woman does not ask, but you both know this is goodbye for good.

The time has come to either make history or destroy it.

After all, you are the Triumvirate, and your third has finally come home.

****_~fin~_ **   
**

**Author's Note:**

> So hope you enjoyed and sorry but it’ll probably be a while before this has a well progressed sequel. Think like, several months between chapters. At least. Actively trying to go back and work on These Emotions but it’s surprisingly hard to figure out what to do with a story after kissing-canon-goodbye. 
> 
> Comments and critiques welcome @standinshadowedsilence.


End file.
